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Jingyan hasn’t slept in two days, and has been riding for the better part of the month before that. His body is sore, and his eyes ache with exhaustion, but all that pales in comparison to the fear he can feel pounding in his veins, as he prostrates himself in front of the Emperor.
Beside him, his mother is already kneeling. Concubine Jing’s expression is the serene lake it always is, but there’s a tension along her spine, running down the bent curve of her neck that makes anxiety twist deeper, like a sword in Jingyan’s gut. Her eyes are lowered, and Jingyan had only caught her gaze once from the moment he entered the throne room. She’d given him a near-imperceptible shake of her head. Beside her, Prince Qi has his head similarly bent, and the sight of it makes alarm beat through Jingyan’s blood. He has never seen his older brother humble himself, even in front of their royal father, but one sharp look has him restrain himself, to quiet the questions burning on his tongue since he received his message.
The Emperor wishes to see you as soon as possible. It had said in his older brother’s elegant calligraphy. It concerns a matter he wishes to discuss with the two of us and the Concubine Jing. Come as soon as you can. This was written on a scrap of paper hurriedly presented to him by a young Chiyan sergeant at the inn where Jingyan’s officers had all but dragged him in to have a proper rest. Along with it was a second, shorter note.
Wait for me before you say anything. Xiao Shu’s handwriting had been shaky, the sure strokes he was so familiar with unsteady and blotched. By the time Jingyan had reached Da Liang’s gates, the crowd had practically scattered before him with the breakneck speed he’d driven his horse onwards, not stopping until he reached the palace gates.
Xiao Shu. Jingyan grits his jaw. He had known something was wrong within his second month at Donghai, a tightness in his chest, nerves that sharpened his temper and robbed him of sleep. It wasn’t until the messenger from Jinling had arrived, informing them about Da Yu’s latest attempt at invasion that Jingyan had truly known what fear meant, because despite the victory the Chiyan army had won at Mei Ling, something else had gone terribly wrong.
He had ridden for home immediately after that. But not fast enough.
“So you’re back.” The Emperor’s brow is furrowed, his mouth twisted with displeasure as he regards his seventh son. “What have you got to say for yourself?”
Jingyan’s mouth and throat are dry as dust. He opens his mouth, thinking of Xiao Shu’s message. “Father, I take on whatever fault -“
“Your fault?” The Emperor erupts, his face going red as he raises his finger, stabs it at Jingyan’s direction. “Don’t be so charitable towards yourself! You’re not saving your skin by pretending at honor that somehow, both your mother and Prince Qi failed to teach you! No! For this, they’re as much to blame as you!”
“Father-“ Jingyan’s chest clenches. Xiao Shu. Xiao Shu needs him. “Please. I-“
“Do you even understand what shame you’ve brought us?” The Emperor bellows, “Can you even comprehend what you’ve done to the Lin family-“ And at that, dread drops, sick and leaden in Jingyan’s gut.
“Father-“
“I should let the General Lin have your head!” Shouts the Emperor, shaking with so much fury Jingyan can see his mother make an aborted movement to calm him. But Gao gonggong’s reedy voice cuts through the Emperor’s tirade just as he takes a breath.
“The Young Marshall of Chiyan arrives!” Jingyan turns, all decorum forgotten, as Xiao Shu enters the hall.
He’s pale, his face so white that Jingyan immediately rushes to support him, half-forgetting his mother and Prince Qi, and his father on his throne. As Jingyan steadies him, bracing him by the arm, through his robes he can feel Xiao Shu’s lost weight. But that isn’t the biggest change in his appearance.
He’s wearing his hair loose, like only kunze do. Jingyan stares at Xiao Shu, his eyes wide, guilt clawing at his chest. Xiao Shu’s gaze flickers up at him before his fingernails pointedly dig into Jingyan’s hand, where he’s gripping him.
“Xiao Shu, you shouldn’t be up.” The Emperor has visibly calmed down, his voice softening as he addresses Xiao Shu. “Not in your condition.”
“Your Majesty.” Xiao Shu says. His nails pierce the back of Jingyan’s hands again. “I came to beg you for clemency on Jingyan and his mother’s behalf, as well as that of Prince Qi.” The Emperor scowls.
“Did Consort Chen put you up to this?” Xiao Shu shakes his head. Jingyan’s grip around him tightens. His arm slips around Xiao Shu’s waist, steadying him when he feels him trembling with exertion, matching Xiao Shu’s angry glare with a pointed one of his own. From the corners of his eyes he can see the Emperor frowning, his mother’s still-calm expression, slightly clouded with worry, and Prince Qi, his eyes darting from Xiao Shu to Jingyan, looking exasperated. But all that matters right now is Xiao Shu. All that matters is that he’s holding him, after more than six months of separation.
“No, neither the Consort Chen nor my father persuaded me into doing this. I came of my own volition.” He bows, as best as he can with Jingyan all but holding him up. Inclining his head humbly, his voice soft, just like the kunze he never wanted to be seen as.
“Your Majesty, I was the one wronged. Please let me be the one to offer forgiveness.” For a moment the Emperor looks like he’s about to start yelling at Xiao Shu, too. And then he sighs. Slumps back against his throne.
“The honor of the Lin family won’t be so easily restored after this.” The Emperor says, his eyes narrowed at Jingyan. “Mind, I don’t know how Lin Xie’s going to react when he sees Jingyan, after everything he put you through in Mei Ling.”
“I’ll speak to my father.” Xiao Shu says. “He has more cause to celebrate than grieve.” The Emperor sighs.
“I won’t be looking forward to that conversation.” He mumbles. He levels another glare at Jingyan, who keeps his eyes cast down. “Concubine Jing.” He snaps. “Xiao Shu shouldn’t be up. Take him and Prince Jing to Zhiluo Palace.” His gaze shifts to Prince Qi. “As for Prince Qi, your consort’s also expecting. For her sake, I’m letting you off.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Prince Qi says, bowing low. The Emperor waves them off, but tells Prince Qi to remain behind. Xiao Shu squeezes Jingyan by the shoulder, forcibly steering him out of Yanju hall.
Outside, there’s a palanquin waiting, and another young soldier in Chiyan livery springing up to help Jingyan help Xiao Shu in. Jingyan helps his mother inside, watching her take Xiao Shu’s pulse, fussing over him. Xiao Shu fends her off good-naturedly with his familiar sideways grin, but he’s still deathly pale.
A warm hand presses against Jingyan’s cheek. “I’m fine.” He says, very softly. “I had Aunt Jing looking after me, and several other physicians besides. They all say I’ll make a full recovery.” Jingyan brushes a lock of hair away from Xiao Shu’s cheek.
“What happened? Why did you get so ill? I felt you while you were at Mei Ling-“ At that, Xiao Shu smiles, just a little.
“You’ll see later.” The palanquin begins to move. Jingyan keeps pace, his hands laced together with Xiao Shu’s.
When they arrive at Zhiluo Palace, Jingyan can see that there are more people than usual, and not anyone he recognizes. One in particular is a young kunze, several years older than him and Xiao Shu, holding a fan. When the eunuchs announce his and his mother’s presence, he bows, but Jingyan has never seen anyone look more unimpressed and insouciant. Jingyan eyes him warily.
“So this is his Highness, the Prince Jing.” The young man speaks with a sing-song lilt, his sharp eyes gazing at Jingyan, steady and challenging. Nothing like any kunze Jingyan’s ever known (besides the obvious exception). He makes a gesture at a young maid behind him, and the girl hastily bows, darting back inside.
“Lin Chen. Don’t start.” Xiao Shu says grumpily as he’s helped out of the palanquin and into a seat in the garden, sighing as Jingyan supports him with an arm. “Jingyan, this is Lin Chen of Langya Hall. He was one of our physicians at Mei Ling.” Lin Chen smirks, his eyes never leaving Jingyan’s face as he snaps his fan shut, tucks it into his robes.
“I must say, Lin Shu, I now understand your poor life decisions.” Xiao Shu actually colors at that, glaring at Lin Chen, but before Jingyan can even think of a reply, Lin Chen slaps him.
The force of the slap has his head snapping to the side. Jingyan blinks, more startled than enraged. Through the ringing in his ears and Xiao Shu’s outrage, he can hear Lin Chen speaking.
“Apologies to Concubine Jing, but I’ve wanted to do that for six months,” He says cheerfully. “I’d hit Lin Shu too, but he already spent the better part of last week screaming.” But before Jingyan can demand an explanation there’s something being pressed into his arms. A warm bundle of silk.
Jingyan stares. His cheek is stinging, but he can barely feel it. Can barely feel his exhaustion, the aches and pains of the last few days. The baby in his arms snuffles, begins to cry, but it calms when Xiao Shu’s hand gently cups its downy head. Humming until the little scrunched-up face eases back into sleep.
Jingyan lifts his eyes to meet Xiao Shu’s. He can feel them prickling, and Xiao Shu’s eyes are wet, too.
“It’s a boy.” Xiao Shu says, his voice cracking just a little. “I gave birth to him a week ago.”
The newborn baby in Jingyan’s arms –so tiny, he can’t believe anything could be so small and so perfect- snuffles again, but he quiets down when Jingyan tucks him closer against his chest. His shaking thumb brushing lightly against that soft, chubby cheek.
His mother is quiet as she watches them, but she’s smiling as she turns away, giving hushed orders to her maids as she leaves to give Jingyan and Xiao Shu some privacy. Lin Chen follows her, his expression full of satisfaction, cocking an eyebrow at Xiao Shu, who rolls his eyes, subtly wiping at them with the palm of his hand. Jingyan takes a deep, unsteady breath, leans down to kiss his baby’s forehead. Dark eyes open, staring up at him in confusion, and Jingyan falls deeper in love than he already has.
Xiao Shu’s smile has a different quality to it. A deep tenderness that Jingyan had never seen before. He looks so radiant and beautiful that Jingyan's breath catches in his throat.
“We fought so hard to keep him alive in Mei Ling,” Xiao Shu finally says. “Father thought I was going to lose him, especially after the last battle. I wouldn’t hear of it.” Jingyan looks at him then, hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, unable to keep the anger and pain out of his voice. Because if he’d known, if he’d only understood what their bond was trying to tell him -“If I had known what kind of danger you were in-“
“Exactly.” Xiao Shu says. At Jingyan’s glower, his expression softens. “We didn’t know if we were going to win. I didn’t want you rushing headlong into danger because you were desperate to protect us.”
Jingyan is silent, still angry, but his arms tighten protectively around his son. The baby fusses a little, but quiets down again when Xiao Shu brushes his lips against the top of his head.
“He feels what we feel.” Xiao Shu says, and Jingyan’s anger dissolves. It’s still there, still something they’ll have to talk about later, and Jingyan is never letting Xiao Shu run off to battle alone ever again -but everything else he can feel is so much more. Jingyan leans down to kiss Xiao Shu, tasting home.
In his arms, the baby coos.
“I haven’t named him yet.” Xiao Shu says when they finally pull apart. His voice is hoarse. “I wanted to wait for you, to see if you’ll have any ideas.” Jingyan smiles at him, his heart so full he can feel it’s about to burst. He helps Xiao Shu up to where his mother’s maids had spread a blanket beneath the nan tree, settling their son on Xiao Shu’s lap. Holding him close as they both watch their son watching them.
“We have time,” Jingyan whispers. He nuzzles his face against the back of Xiao Shu’s neck, his eyes slipping shut as he breathes in. Xiao Shu reaches into the little bundle and smiles when their son grips his index finger in one tiny, tiny hand.
“We’re home.”